


Of Nightmares & Tears

by rosequartzstars



Series: Of Interrupted Sleep [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Bedroom, Bedrooms, Comforting Each Other, Crying, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, Literal Sleeping Together, Married Couple, Night Terrors, Oneshot, PTSD nightmares, Post-Battle of Hogwarts, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Psychological Trauma, Sharing a Bed, Sleeping Together, Slice of Life, Trauma, rff 2020, romione, romione fic fest 2020, romione oneshot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-11
Updated: 2020-07-11
Packaged: 2021-03-05 00:55:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 879
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25205827
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rosequartzstars/pseuds/rosequartzstars
Summary: It’s understandable that Ron and Hermione would have trouble sleeping, after living through a war and through harder times than most. The good thing about sharing a bed, however, is that they have someone to comfort them when the dark memories rouse them.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley
Series: Of Interrupted Sleep [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1826047
Comments: 3
Kudos: 47





	Of Nightmares & Tears

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written for the Romione Ficlet Fest 2020 on Tumblr, for the prompt "anything goes."
> 
> You can find the original here: https://romioneficfest.tumblr.com/post/621269607104282624/interrupted-sleep
> 
> Published as "Interrupted Sleep" originally, but title changed to make "Of Interrupted Sleep" a series featuring more ships in a similar bedtime scenario. This is only the first of those.

Ron has nightmares.

Wake-up-in-a-scream, sit-up-bolt-upright nightmares.

He can't explain them— they're not exactly coherent, just a flash of green light here, a maniacal laugh echoing from a locket long-destroyed, the sound of a wall crashing down on Fred, the emptiness that comes with being alone in a forest you don't know your way out of and your throat stripped hoarse from calling for your friends. He doesn't remember them, and they die out in his memory as he comes into wakefulness, leaving behind only his heart thumping frightfully in his chest, his brow dripping with sweat, and his breath jagged and panting.

It inevitably wakes up Hermione, but she never complains. She knows it's collateral damage from fighting a war, and one she carries too, only in different ways. She's brimming with words, usually, but she never says anything to him. She knows it's loud inside his head, and the last thing he needs is more noise, with the voices of his past pounding at the inside walls of his mind. He —usually so loud, so boisterous, such a joyful racket to be around— needs silence.

So she doesn't speak. She holds him until his shoulders have stopped shaking, until his breath has steadied, until he's comfortable enough to close his eyes again. Slowly, she helps him fold back into bed. She curls around him without a word, spooning him in the crevice of her body even though he's significantly taller. She drapes an arm around his middle and places her hand above his heart, and she doesn't go to sleep until it's beating normally again. She feels his chest heave under her, but she only holds him closer, until he's calmer, until he's asleep again in the warm comfort of her arms. She knows this is what he needs— no words, just a home to fall asleep in. She knows she's that home.

When, at last, he's gone back to sleep, she intertwines her legs with his, presses a soft kiss to the back of his neck, and falls asleep with her head against his back, breathing in synchrony without letting him go.

* * *

Hermione cries.

Not consciously, or anything— sometimes her whimpering wakes Ron up, and it's not long after that sobs begin to rack her body, waking her up in a flood of tears and unable to stop bawling. She doesn't know where it comes from, but she knows where it started. It started when she was seventeen, when she spent sleepless nights wondering whether her parents would ever remember her, tears streaming down her face at the thought that they wouldn't. And then Ron left her and Harry in that forest, and she cried herself to sleep practically nightly, wondering whether she was suffering in the name of a lost cause.

It may be because she's used to being so brave, so strong all the time. She's always been an only, lonely child, even before she met Ron and Harry, and her skin has grown thick from years of bearing taunts about her intelligence, her serious demeanor, her appearance... Hermione's strong. She's resilient, and she doesn't crack under pressure. It's only under dark of night that her body can no longer hold it, and she breaks.

When this happens, Ron knows she needs to come back to reality. That she needs to be yanked away from whatever long-rooted, deep-seated sadness is stirring at her soul, that she needs to be reminded of how much better she is now, how much lovelier life is.

So he talks to her.

He draws her to him and pulls her close, so she's enveloped in his arms, her head resting on his chest, so that his lips are right next to her ear. And, one hand stroking her hair and the other lightly rubbing her back, he whispers to her all the stories about his childhood. He tells her about his first broomstick— a hand-me-down of Charlie's, bucking and worn-down, on which he bruised everyone in the house's ankles by bumping into them. He tells her about degnoming the garden and the time Fred dared George to lick a gnome's bald head. He tells her about his favorite Christmas, one winter that Arthur received a massive boon from the Ministry for great work on a long-drawn case of exploding plantpots, where he spent the whole day grinning madly and everyone thought it was because he'd _finally_ gotten a present that wasn't a hand-me-down, but it was really because it had been the first time in a while that he'd heard his mom laugh so loudly.

He tells Hermione about all the wonderful things in his life before her, all the things little Ron remembers, and Hermione stops crying to listen closely to all the finer details about the man she loves. Ron keeps talking, keeps telling her stories, until she's started faintly snoring (something Ron thinks is adorable, though she'll never tell her or she'll kill him), the unmissable marker that she's gone to sleep. Then, utterly happy at being able to be the one to hold her in his arms and comfort her, he presses a kiss to her forehead and falls asleep with her head still on his chest, and his embrace stays tight the whole night through.


End file.
